Silent Oaths
by Sweet Ruby Moon
Summary: They had long mastered the arts of leaving things unsaid. Clow x Yuuko


**Title:** Silent Oaths  
**Series:** xxxHOLiC  
**Character/Pairing:** Clow Reed x Yuuko Ichihara  
**Rating:** PG

"Is this going to take much longer?" A decidedly annoyed feminine voice asked, her tone nearly pleading. "I feel like we've been here forever!"

A chuckle. "Patience, Yuuko dear. You don't want me to perform my task in haste, do you? It's your hair we're talking about, after all."

"I think I can perfectly take care of my own hair without your help, you know. Sometimes, I really do wonder why in the world I still let you do the job for me…"

"Perhaps because you're too lazy to do it yourself?" He grinned in response, refraining from going into further details about her true motives. They were both fine with her soon to be given excuse, and that was all that mattered.

"It takes twice the effort for me to fix it myself! Besides, my spoiled ways combined with such a willing hairdresser at my services don't really leave me with much of a choice, do they?"

This time, he gave a whole-hearted laugh. "I suppose that's true. In which case, you should keep quiet and let me finish this. There's no need to hurry, right?"

"You've been brushing my hair for the past _hour_ or so, Clow," She rolled her eyes at him in pretense frustration. "I honestly don't think you even know the meaning of _hurry_, in the first place."

* * *

Clow loved long hair and it showed, not only in his Cards and Moon Guardian, but in his reflection as well – his dark mane was quite a sight to be admired, indeed. Conceited as he might be, the man took a lot more pride in his creations' tresses than in his own.

But his world did not solely revolve around his safe range of reality, hard to believe as it might be – more often than not, he did get too comfortable around his own kind to go out, after all. Still, he was a fine appreciator of beauty in all its forms, both inwardly and in outside expressions, and as such, he spent a good deal of his time watching – things and people alike, the invisible hands guiding their fates and everything else the average sight could not quite fathom. Life was rushing by.

He also had a keen eye for details, and he particularly enjoyed giving special attention to Yuuko's hair; it was a most fascinating trait of hers, in his opinion. Surely, her overly intricate hairdos and the kinds of heavy ornaments she wore were meant to highlight its magnificence and to have all looks snagged by her raven cascades, but that was not what attracted him at all. In fact, he found it to be much prettier when worn loose, one of the very few things he actually liked the simple way.

He never quite told her that, though, and sometimes his own vanity got him wondering whether she kept her locks down most of the time for his sake or simply because she felt too relaxed around him to bother with dolling up. Both options pleased him to no end.

For one reason or another, he found it very easy to get lost in that ocean of black, her every thread of hair so soft that it almost felt as though it could dissolve any minute, like a string of magic in his hands – fleeting, whimsical. There was something very unique about it, something so undeniably hers that he had yet to understand. It was a personal challenge and he wouldn't give it up, even it meant digging through her mind and learning her mysteries – _obnoxiously determined_, she often called him.

That was a treacherous territory and he knew it; his interest remained however, not _in spite of_ the danger, but rather, _because of_ that.

* * *

Witch and magician rarely ever went out on dates, and if a third party were to ask them, they _never_ did. Long hours of working and planning usually kept them too busy to think of their own welfare (it would be too selfish of a thing, they frequently excused themselves), but the occasional jaunt was more than welcome. They were both still human, even though they pretended to neglect this technicality most of the time.

"We should do this more often," He told her one evening, as they strolled a lazy path back home. He meant every single word, too.

"Maybe we should," She replied, arms carefully folded inside the sleeves of her kimono. It was a pretty chilly weather then. "Although eating out means you don't get to cook, you know. Are you sure you can handle staying away from your sanctuary for a whole night?"

"I suppose I can make an effort. Besides, we could really use some variety. Sometimes it's nice to have more people around, don't you think?"

"Aha, so that is what this is all about! You got bored of me!" Her tone was that of mock hurt, and the overly dramatic pout on her features reinforced her act.

"Honestly, Yuuko," He chuckled at her antics, knowing her too well to take that seriously. "I don't think anyone could ever get bored around you _and_ your ideas. You have quite the imagination, I must admit."

"Oh, I know. Everyone should be more like me!" She grinned in response, though her next line was added in a sulking fashion. "Then again, I wouldn't be as special anymore…"

_You'd still be special to me,_ he almost told her, but decided otherwise. It would've been too obvious of an attempt at flattering her. "Then perhaps that would fuel you into further improving? This creative genius is _your_ signature trait in the first place, so you would always be one step ahead of others, anyway."

"That much is true. But if I were to get any more special, then I'd have even more admirers on my track, and it's hard enough to deal with them all as it is, you see!"

He returned her devious little smirk with one of his own. "Is that supposed to make me jealous, dearest?"

She would ask him if it was working, but he wouldn't give her a straight answer, either. Instead, she settled for hooking an arm around his and drawing closer for warmth. They had long mastered the arts of leaving things unsaid.

* * *

He would love nothing more than being the first person she saw at the crack of dawn, the first smile to greet her good morning, but he never allowed himself to linger overnight. There would soon come a day when they could no longer meet, and he had no right to make the occasion even harder of an experience.

There was still one thing he _could_ do, and he spared no efforts when seizing the opportunity. His borrowed time might be running against him, but he would never do things in a hurry when it came to Yuuko. She was meant for his eyes to contemplate and for his hands to never truly have - a work of art, so to speak. Perhaps it wasn't much, but he was sure to make the best of what he had. She would be remembered in this current existence of his and across all of his lifetimes, always.

It would never be enough, but it was all he could offer.

He often procrastinated leaving her, and one night he had stayed particularly longer than usual (although not enough for anyone but himself to notice), her slumbering form beside him breaking through all of his willpower. Bony fingers loosely entwined in a stubborn strand, he guarded her sleep and loved her in silence, watching and wishing and waiting - for what, he wasn't sure. Second chances were hard to come by.

He smiled when she moved a little in bed, and it would have been even softer of a gesture if he could see what she dreamed of. She was at her most natural, no colorful ornaments to adorn her hair or flaunting attires to cover her body, and the only pieces of jewelry she wore were sleek droplets of sweat, the remaining hints of their shared passion. Her massive hair was everywhere, the darkest of veils framing her figure like a _grand finale_ to the beauty fair she was unconsciously putting up. She was the image of disarray, but to him, she was still the most dazzling sight of all.

It was right then, somewhere between quiet whispers and goodnight kisses, that he realized one of her better kept secrets.

* * *

Showing up unannounced by her porch had almost become a routine of sorts, one that always managed to earn a long, pointed stare from Yuuko. She had grown used to his crazy ideas and very strange antics, but it didn't mean she had to _like them_ – especially not when it involved her getting up so early in the morning.

"What the hell are you doing here, Clow?" It was pointless to ask (there were always ulterior reasons he wouldn't quite tell her), but she did it, anyway. Even through her blurred, sleepy vision, she could still perfectly make out the shapes of his annoying little smile, and it only made her mood get worse.

"We have work to do, of course," His smile widened at this point, almost as though he tried to dig himself deeper into the hole. "And we can't afford to waste any more time, dearest."

"It's not even working hours yet, Clow," She informed (or rather, _reminded_) him in an oddly sober tone, though it was also obviously charged with annoyance. "Even people with an _actual schedule_ are sleeping right now."

"But the sooner we start, the sooner we'll get this over with, right?"

Yuuko almost rolled her eyes at him. How could anyone be so bright and up this early in the day? "It's no use trying to force some common sense into your head, is it?"

"Not _your_ concept of common sense, I'm afraid." There wasn't the slightest hint of regret on his face.

She sighed. "Well, I'm not in a proper condition to work. I wasn't expecting any _guests_ so soon, as I'm sure you can tell."

Clow chuckled a little, scanning her figure for the shortest of seconds before she could accuse him of having less than noble thoughts. She had visibly just gotten up from bed (against her will, he was sure), a silken robe loosely wrapped around her body for whatever reasons; if it was supposed to cover any skin, then it didn't serve its purpose much. With a temper so far from being at its best and a glare that could kill, Yuuko wasn't anywhere near her presentable self, but he didn't seem to mind it in the least. In fact, he rather _liked_ her that way.

"Oh, we don't have to work right away," He tried to compromise, a peace offering working its way through their exchange. "In fact, perhaps I could make it up to you. For all the inconvenience, I mean."

"…I'm listening." Oh, the bastard always knew just what to do to get what he wanted.

"How about a special breakfast, a bit of hangover remedy and a nice hairdressing session afterward? That should put you in a better mood, shouldn't it?"

"…hmm." She turned around and finally granted him access through her door, speaking no more until it was necessary. That was as close to a _yes_ as he'd ever get from her under those circumstances.

Not too long after he had taken his first steps inside, she stopped on her tracks and whipped around, an idea coming to mind. Then, the witch snatched that pair of glasses from him and safely put them away somewhere he wouldn't dare to reach for, resuming her walk as though nothing had happened. A half second flashed by and he laughed in response, squinting a little so he could at least keep moving without tripping over unspotted items.

"What was that for?"

"If I have to walk around this drowsy and seeing this little, so do you," She warned him, sticking a finger up in the air for added affected. "Besides, I'm not letting you catch another glimpse of me in this very sloppy state so you can tease me about it later!"

He would tell her there was no need for this course of action, but _that_ would have been pointless. Wearing glasses or not, he was still blind to her so-called flaws.

* * *

They never shared all they knew, never voiced all the words they could have. It was a silent oath they promised not to break.

It wasn't that witch and magician did not trust the other; much on the contrary, they had long overcome whatever wariness there might have been in the initial stages of their relationship, a distant time in the past. They still argued and bickered and momentarily swore to never talk to each other again, but at the end of the day when all differences were laid aside, they were kindred souls, the closest of friends and the furthest of lovers.

They knew too much, of both each other and worldly matters; surprise was often kindly feigned, but rarely ever truly felt. Their notion of time had no consistency, tenuous like the smoke swirls spiraling from their shared pipe, right out of control. Present merged with future, the latest novelty was old news, and everything else was ordinary. They saw far too much – behind, around and ahead of them. Unwelcome it was, that feeling of everlasting vigilance.

Their agreement was then made necessary, the occasional secret serving not as an obstacle, but as a sign of intimacy instead. Mystery kept the spark alive.

* * *

"Very well," He gave her the final touch-ups before laying the brush aside, a gentle smile sprouting on his features as he added. "We're done here, dearest."

"Finally!" Her voice was a mix of sheer relief and tiny hints of disappointment, if one were to listen closely. "You took so long that, for a moment, I thought you had forgotten all about work!"

A chuckle. "Your hair is as serious of a job to me as any other, Yuuko. Besides, I thought you were the one who didn't want to work, in the first place?"

"Well, I don't," Her hand gripped the back of her neck and it cracked a little. "But that's what _you_ came here for, isn't it?"

"I see," He replied, catching sight of the very meaningful smirk she gave him. A hard one to fool, that woman was. "We'll get to that right away, then. But first tell me if this is to your liking."

Carefully, he handed over a framed mirror so she could watch her image and judge his work – sheer volumes of hair meticulously brushed and kept loose, nothing anywhere close to elaborate. It was the easiest of hairdos, yet her expression reflected earnest awe and satisfaction, just the sort of reaction he was hoping for. He couldn't read that far into her mind, but he would be pleased to know she was actually wondering what kind of tricks he had employed then; try as she might, Yuuko couldn't ever quite achieve the same results when taking care of her locks herself. It made her unnervingly curious, even.

Of course, she wasn't about to admit this much so easily, either. Clow already had too great of an ego as it was.

"That is…" She took a small pause for suspense, finishing her line with a wide, teasing grin. "…not bad."

"_Not bad_?" He repeated, amused. "Judging from the look on your face, I'd say I deserve a little better than that, dear."

"If you want a better compliment, then you'll have to give me something in return," She faced him, her smile turning devious at the prospect. "So tell me. What's your secret?"

As tempted as he might have been, Clow merely gave her a knowing smile and said nothing else on the matter. It had taken him far too long to solve her puzzle, and his would be an equal enigma for her only to unravel.

He would have to settle with _'not bad'_ for now, it seemed.


End file.
